The last of it for another month

On December 2nd, after the pain meds kicked in, my boyfriend drove us up into the Oakland hills for a scenic drive. The wind was biting and rough, averaging 35 MPH (56 KPH) gusts. I wore a winter coat and my gloves. But it didn’t stop us from taking some awesome pictures.

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That night, my man had an appointment with some friends he’s doing some artwork for, and I stayed home and either cleaned or went to bed early.
On Sunday, I felt better. George was still hurting me, but subsided in time for my friend N, who was visiting on business from Michigan, to drop by. I showed him the town museum and we got some super creamed ice cream from the local shop.
He then drove me to another friend’s house, where we had a mini Michigander reunion. Everyone except one person that evening was from Michigan. We had an awesome dinner and drank lots of red wine and laughed until our sides split.

When I was brought back home again, I didn’t want the night to end but sadly it was already my bedtime.

This is where everything went downhill. I wouldn’t know it until I tried to sleep through the night, though.

ALL night, I had dreams that I needed to be up in ten minutes or else I’d be late to work. The anxiety dreams increased until I sat straight up in bed and squinted at the clock.

To my horror, my alarm never went off, and I’d slept in by half-an-hour. This meant I could not shower before work.
Then I got into the kitchen and realised we were out of eggs. And I hadn’t made any lunch and baking something now would make me late for work. I scrambled to throw a can of chili and cheese into a microwaveable bowl while also scarfing bites of cold cereal. The time moved faster than I could.
Then I remembered I had no bridge toll money, and no gas in my car. So now I had to cut my morning routine by ANOTHER half an hour.
So all I had to eat was a few bites of cereal, and out the door I went to go to the bank and to the gas station.
I made it to work on time, but I was REALLY grumpy and just not feeling well.

This not feeling well lasted through lunch, when I finally declared to some friends online, ““today is fired. the only thing that could make it worse is if george begins hurting me again.

Guess what happened, next.

It was just after 3pm and I was on a customer support call. I got a hot flash. Then I felt slightly nauseated. Then, the pain. I shifted uneasily in my chair and felt my face getting hot. I rushed the person off the phone, pushing the rest of their petty web design ignorance to email support. I tore the headset off and told my boss I was taking a break. She looked up and asked if I wasn’t feeling well again and I said “NO” and staggered to my backpack just next to my chair. By this time, the other two coworkers in the cube were eyeballing me with curiosity. I dug out my prescription bottle, which of course HAD to fall to the floor. I whimpered as I bent down to get the bottle and staggered out of the cube to the bathroom.
There, I sat in a stall for several minutes, near tears, as I birthed squid.

I finally composed myself, washed up, took 600mg of Ibu even though I still needed the Tylenol 3 in that bottle, and sat back down at my desk. I messaged my boss that it would take 35-40 minutes for the meds to kick in and asked what she thought was best for me. She took me off phones and had me work on email support for the next 40 minutes. I spent most of that time staring in a stupor, trying to focus on the emailed-in issues and figuring out how to answer them intelligently.

Then the pain passed. The drugs kicked in. How fortunate, or perhaps that was just George’s last gasp and he was done with me? But I didn’t escape fully. The pain episode had wiped me out. I needed bedrest. And my shift was still an hour from done.

I drove home in a daze and was surprised to find my commute was only an hour. I got home and had no will to do laundry because I’d have to go out and get quarters. I had no will to make dinner because it also required effort. I know this means I’ll be making lunch tomorrow while also trying to find breakfast without eggs again, because I didn’t go grocery shopping for more eggs, either. Hell, I’ve already exhauseted my grocery money allowance, anyway. I don’t get paid til Friday.

So I plopped down on the bed after doing some quick work on the computer. Just as I was sinking into a nice nap, I heard my boyfriend unlock the front door. Yay! He’s home from work!

And then, he called out my name like my father might when he is angry with me.

I’d left the bath mat smooshed up against the door again to drive out the cold air. I about cried by this point – getting in trouble after everything else all day today. My depression deepened and I wanted to lash out but instead I just moved the mat out of the way, let my man in the door, then sauntered in my bathrobe back to bed and plopped face down.

My man really does love me, though. He cuddled with me and listened to me whine about my day, and blame my renewed depression on all the pain meds I’ve done in the last four days (which is likely truth y’know).

Now…he’s offered to do some of my laundry with his pile that he had scheduled to do tonight, anyway. I do love that man of mine.

And now, it’s time to shower and get into bed.

Tomorrow better be nicer. Or else…

…or else I might do something irresponsible like take it out on the workplace and walk off the job.

Man I really do need a good job closer to home. After surgery though – it has to wait until then. *whimper*

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